


Tumblr Ficlets

by ceceliatarleton



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Bad ending Au, Modern AU, Multi, Musical Theatre AU, Post canon, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceceliatarleton/pseuds/ceceliatarleton
Summary: Snippets I've posted to Tumblr in the past that don't fit anywhere else. Characters, pairings, and settings for individual titles will be in the chapter titles.
Relationships: Axel/Isa/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Eraqus/Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. Music of the Night (Vanven, University/Musical Theatre AU)

Ventus had been half gone on their Erik since he’d snuck into the back of the auditorium and heard Vanitas sing _“My Friends”_ from Sweeney Todd at auditions with a depth and seductive passion that made his mouth run dry, and follow it and his monologue with a smirk to the director that said he knew for a fact his performance couldn’t help but secure him more than just a callback but he’d play along and go through the formalities. Vanitas had been half off the stage and had to throw his affirmative back over his shoulder when the director had caught up and asked him if he could come back the next night. 

Ventus had slipped back out the door, caring more about trying to catch Vanitas on his way to the parking lot than trying to spy on more members of a competition that had already been decided. He’d missed the brunette, which had probably been for the best, because, in that state of instantly enamored, Ventus would have said something stupid and earned a sharp, dismissive comeback that would have taught him early what every member of the cast that hadn’t worked alongside or shared classes with him before learned the first week of rehearsal: more than talent or confidence, Vanitas’s defining trait was that he was an unrepentant asshole.

The crush had flagged upon seeing Vanitas reduce their Christine, Naminé, to tears on multiple occasions, and loyalty had put a few more nails in the coffin when he’d almost gotten into a fist fight with Terra and he’d complimented Aqua a little too pointedly a little too often on how well she channeled Carlotta. Ventus had his hand forced by the same loyalty (with a small extra dose of transferred twice over grudge because of his twin, Roxas, and Roxas’s “friend” Lea who had placed a little too much hope into being cast as Erik himself when the theatre department had announced the lineup for the year, and had spent the end of spring, the summer, and the first week of fall semester counting down to an audition where he’d directly followed Vanitas and then not made it through his allotted bars before the director had cut him off) to be nothing but cold when Vanitas had briefly showed that he was in fact aware of Ventus’s existence–though that had actually had the reverse effect of making Vanitas seek him out more and more for a few rehearsals to Ventus’s confusion, annoyance, and secret delight until Vanitas’s attention had been distracted. Vanitas’s voice lost power over him over time as well, or so Ventus maintained, even in his own inner monologue.

He liked the idea of Vanitas when he wasn’t being himself. It wasn’t real, and he couldn’t even have a crush on “Erik” anymore after having every moment, movement, and note of Phantom broken down and repeated for hours a night far too many nights. 

Ventus wasn’t prepared for how he would feel seeing Vanitas in costume, holding poses while the lighting designer and the light board operator played with cues and the assistant director made notes on suggestions to give the photographer that was handling the publicity photos. Ventus would insist, however, that the reason he was feeling lightheaded was that the costumer had made the vest on his own ensemble too tight.

And he certainly wasn’t _staring._

If he _was_ staring, he would have noticed what Vanitas’s mask was half-covering before he heard Kairi and Xion’s whispered conversation behind him.

“Are we doing makeup today too?”

“Nah, Riku punched him in the face last night and bruised his pretty face.”

“What? At practice?”

“Pfft. No. Long after. A bunch of us went to that club I told you about last month, World That Never Was, and…it’s a long story.”

“And Riku punched him? I had Aqua in the pool. I don’t think anyone had Riku. Aren’t they dating?”

Ventus almost tripped, which would have been awkward since he was standing still in the wings. 

“Ha! No more than Roxas and Lea.” Kairi sounding so incredulous shouldn’t have been a relief.

“Yeah, _and your point is_?” Xion pressed.

Ventus had pegged that one. His twin was terrible at keeping secrets.

“Well, it’s a little _too much_ like Roxas and Lea." 

"I thought Riku punched Van, not Isa.”

“Funny. You’re on the right track though. Sora was with us, and he was pretty drunk…”

Ventus didn’t get to hear the story that he wouldn’t have admitted to eavesdropping on or being invested in though, because the next second someone was calling him.

“Venty, come here.” Vanitas caught his eye and jerked his head in an invitation to join him on stage.

“Me? What?” Pride would ensure Ventus did worse than what had been done to Vanitas’s face if it ever be said that his voice squeaked in that moment.

“Yeah, stop lurking in the wings gaping at me, loser. Light op needs a body-double for Christine. Nam isn’t here yet. She had a makeup exam for Pysch. Walk through some of _Music of the Night_ with me.”

Ventus said nothing. He was about Naminé’s height but there were so many more appropriate choices that had come to rehearsal early and were milling around, even if you only counted people within arms reach. Something held him back from arguing though.

“What are you waiting for, Venty? For me to say please?”

Pride would also ensure Ventus would forever deny that he sprinted onstage.


	2. Eggplant (Axel/Roxas Post Canon)

“I’m sorry.” Roxas shouted at the bedroom door as it nearly hit him in the face as it swung shut.

The door opened as quickly as it had closed, revealing Axel, still dressed in thigh highs and a maid’s uniform as he had been throughout one of the worlds’ more awkward dinners to date. He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Well, I am.” It was Roxas’s turn to heave a small sigh of regret as his hand reached out of its own will to play with the black bow at the top of Axel’s left leg and then twist the lace at the hem of the surely not uniform regulation length dress. “Extremely sorry.”

Axel smacked his hand away, though with a smirk that said it was just for the show of being annoyed still “I just….Sora? What were you thinking?”

“Hey, as soon as we walked in here and saw you in that, I told him to leave…”

“Which was rude since you invited him to dinner,” Axel interrupted.

“Which he should have understood and been cool about instead of…”

“I thought he was very cool about it,” Axel continued to not let his boyfriend finish a sentence.

“Obviously,” Roxas huffed with only a shade of genuine annoyance. “You two kept speaking French to each other all night.”

“We only talked about you.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Roxas continued to pout and even took a step back away from Axel as the redhead reached for his hands.

“Roxas,” Axel made the call of his name sound almost chiding, but he continued in a patient tone, reorienting the topic. “What about that text I sent you made you think tonight was a good night to have Sora over?”

“You said you had a special dinner planned and then there were the emojis. I thought you were making that one dish with the couscous cooked in the peach juice with the chickpeas and roasted eggplant. You know, the one you made after our last mission to Motunui? I had talked it up to Sora so much the last time it only seemed right to invite him if you were making it again.” The twitch of a Axel’s lips that made the slight smile that had settled on his lips ripple and widen made Roxas think he had said something foolish. When Axel lost the battle with himself and laughed outright, Roxas was sure of it.

“Oh babe, you still have a lot to learn.”

“Then what did the eggplant and….Oh. Oh! That’s why you misspelled come over for dinner!”

“That would be it.”


	3. Garbage (Axel/Roxas Modern AU)

“It’s not funny,” Axel growled, hopping a few steps away, then leaning against the hallway wall.

“It’s a little funny.” Roxas smiled up at him, still sprawled on the floor.

“My foot got stuck in the chute!”

“In my defense, I didn’t think the door of the trash chute would push in.” Roxas tilted his head to the side, looking a bit like a quizzical bird. “That seems like a design flaw. They are supposed to pull out.”

“I twisted my ankle…No, you twisted my ankle.” The exaggerated distress on Axel’s face and the accusing finger point made it seem like pride was the only thing really wounded.

“And I bruised my tailbone when we fell over! We’re both victims here!” Roxas gestured wildly back at the taller man as he defended himself. 

“I thought you were picking me up to carry me over the threshold of our new place because you were being romantic.”

“Yeah…that would have been romantic,” Roxas looked almost regretful for a moment, but then a grin took over “but….you’re not really portable. If I’m going to pick you up, it’s got to be for something important.”

“You tried to throw me away!”

“If you didn’t want to get thrown away, you shouldn’t be wearing a shirt that says Hot Garbage.”

“…Okay, fair.”

“Come on, Hot Garbage. Let’s go inside and christen the new place.”


	4. Shadows (Axel/Roxas canon)

Axel had too long associated shadows more with the sinuous, indistinct, oil blotch stalkers that darted around your feet only to pop up in a flash, waist high with claws already buried deep in the muscles of your leg like the universe’s most annoying needy toddler hitching a ride. He didn’t often think of the classic meaning, patterns on the wall or the floor that kept their places, almost ever present doubles. Signs of the presence of a light bright enough to cast.

What did it say about his light that he never saw more than a small blotch around his feet?

Roxas, with all the smug superiority that could inhabit his body, took advantage of for once being in the position to explain basic laws of nature and pointed out that wasn’t how light and shadows worked. It was a judgment of personal abstract potential for “goodness.” It was the position of the sun or physical light source of a room in relation to the object casting the shadow.

Axel had pretended to listen raptly, only to ruin effect by asking if Roxas had ever heard of poetic thought.

Roxas quipped that the only thing close to he’d learned to poetry while trapped back in Sora’s heart were dirty limericks Tidus and Selphie had taught Sora when they were younger, and the only exposure he had before them was Saïx’s attempts at verse, which they both agreed were far from counting. 

Roxas been just about to be the next to undermine himself and add some cheesy couplet about how Axel couldn’t cast a shadow because he was himself the sun, when he was beat to the punch by Axel lifting him up and declaring him the only source of light he knew of in life. 

Roxas returned the sentiment. It was probably even further from profound, lyrical thought than Saïx’s amateur odes to the moon that they had just been making fun of, but to them it was enough to chase shadows of all kinds away long after the sun had cycled across the sky.


	5. Deception (Ventus and Lauriam Bad Ending Canon Divergence)

Ventus still looked like the boy Lauriam had once worked beside, that was the unfair part. He also looked like the thirteenth black cloak that Marluxia had helped train, but those memories, despite being more recent, were as tangled and fragile as a spider’s web now. Marluxia and Lauriam didn’t like to share their memories. There was always a door slamming shut when another opened. Either way it was viewed however, Ventus’s unguarded friendly smile, the freckles scattered across his nose, and the sparkle of curiosity in his wide blue eyes all felt like a trick to lure him the onlooker into a false sense of security. 

He smelled like Darkness. Lauriam liked to think it hadn’t always been there, that he hadn’t–that they all hadn’t–missed it before.

“Don’t you remember me, Laurie?”

Who could the strange blond be? Lauriam had heard the rumor that the Ventus of this strange future had all human darkness bled out of him. He shouldn’t be standing here with not just that but the aura of a worse hitchhiker from the past they’d left behind.

“What happened to your Chirithy?” Lauriam asked the strange blond. Kairi had reunited Ventus with his miniature other. The story had made its way to Lauriam’s ear from a pouting, bitter Elrena who called it unfair. and acted like she didn’t remember Larxene frying her Chirithy to a crisp with her own fingers and Lauriam’s Chirithy falling to Marluxia’s Graceful Dahlia. 

“Who?”

It was the wrong answer.

Who indeed? Who was Lauriam talking to?

Blue eyes blinked and a hand ruffled blond hair that already sat like a disgruntled baby chocobo. 

It was a good deception. It would make doing what needed to be done more difficult.


	6. Hungry (Axel/Roxas Vampire AU)

Roxas could smell the garlic oil on the window sill from across the room. He wondered what defense the redhead had thought it would be. He had clocked the human as smarter than that, though their acquaintance was limited to an hour long discussion on Renaissance humanism that had quickly devolved as Axel (That was what the human’s name was, or what he’d said it was at least. Roxas had his doubts it was the man’s actual name, though he supposed he didn’t have a leg to stand on, having been attached to the name Roxas so long that it blurred in memory and might well have been the one given to him by his parents) had downed enough vodka shots that they began to effect even his powerline pole frame and Roxas had to pretend to be even more inebriated lest it seem too suspicious, then making out in an alley behind the bar they’d met in, and a quick feeding session. 

There wouldn’t have been a second meeting now except, when he’d regretfully instructed Axel to forget ever meeting him, Axel’s eyes had caught the dingy glow of the artificial light half illuminating the alley just right and he’d seen a glimmer of a double image. Mirrored and tinted contact lenses. It explained why Axel’s eyes had been so unnaturally green. Roxas would have called him on it–he wasn’t mad because he couldn’t order the tall man to forget he was a vampire, he was more upset that he’d now made himself vulnerable when he admitted to Axel that he didn’t usually play with his food or risk more than a few minutes of interaction for fear of not being able to erase it, but he found him fascinating–but he’d been busy making a quick escape as Axel called out a signal for hidden friends and a planned ambush.

So Roxas had reason to think Axel would be smarter than garlic on the window sill when slipping under glass and through a screen would already necessitate turning into smoke, and if he was able to turn to smoke, he clearly wouldn’t need to touch the sill. 

Then there was the matter of invitation. Axel would have done better to secure his landlord than his window sill. There was a lot that could be done with technicalities.

The plan had been to go through the hunter’s apartment, his phone, his laptop, to see what he may or may not know, who he was working with, and if Axel been hunting Roxas in particular or if they had both coincidentally been prowling the same bar and lucked into each other. Tracking down who Axel was beyond a pretty face and a name, where he lived, and how to gain access had been a long and frustrating few days. Thirsty work.

Roxas scanned for other traps, but saw none obvious–no runes, no crosses, not even other garlic which made the window sill seem even more like a token attempt– and even if the redhead were one of those obsessive types that had a weapon under his pillow, which Roxas had seen no evidence of either, his reflexes were quicker than any mortal’s. He glided over to the bed, then, moving tentatively enough that it was clear his body was telling his mind that this wasn’t a good idea, crawled over Axel’s unconscious form and brushed his vibrant hair away from his face. 

The human’s heartrate changed and Roxas was back across the room before Axel even had time to play off momentarily caught breath with a faked snore. 

“Wait!” The human wouldn’t have been able to sit up and yell in time if Roxas had actually been following his instincts and trying to get away. “It’s not what you think.”

“What is it then?”

Axel pulled the collar of the oversized shirt he had been pretending to be sleeping in off one shoulder. “I had to make myself interesting enough to warrant a second date, didn’t I?”

Hungry smiles were exchanged.


	7. Paradise (Axel/Roxas Modern AU)

It had rained for six days straight, and nobody seemed to appreciate what that actually meant when Roxas had typed out updates to friends who were lucky they hadn’t gotten far more graphic accounts of how his and Axel’s honeymoon was going.

This wasn’t polite rain, poetic even in dreariness, artful soft gray skies and racing raindrops down window panes. It wasn’t even dramatic lightning and thunder, crescendo booms you felt in your chest that made the heart race and flashes that lit up the whole sky, dangerous and beautiful in its own way. For six days there had been no distinguishing day from night, the air had been heavy as a weighted blanket and needed to be chewed before it could be properly breathed even inside, and rain had come down from the clouds with the force of knives thrown by a professional in diagonals so it could be sure to soak under doors if there was the least crack and render umbrellas and even most raingear useless. The wind had picked up on day three to an absurd degree, offering the honeymooners gifts of palm fronds, all items left out on the balcony two rooms over, and an entire tree leaning against their sliding glass door. Attempting to close the hurricane shutters over the balcony after day three, and, first, figuring out the proper way to unfurl and secure them, had proven almost fatal. Night four had been spent in the bathroom of the suite, in the bath tub (because Roxas was sure they wouldn’t both fit in the small closet of the bedroom and even surer he could not take Axel’s jokes all night if he pushed him into the closet) on the recommendation of the weather advisory.

They had argued with the hotel front desk about refunds for their stay and been laughed at. This? This was just summer storms. They wouldn’t last through a real hurricane.

Roxas was going to level the hotel if the rain didn’t succeed. 

Still, when he looked at his husband, Roxas couldn’t help but think that this was indeed paradise.


	8. Haunted (Axel/Roxas Post Canon Bad Ending AU)

Roxas had looked for him everywhere. He’d begged Miguel to take him beyond the limits of where few living had ever trod, and showed Axel’s picture around. He’d lain at the base of gravestones on the outskirts of Halloween Town, and allowed those viscous urchins who hadn’t left him alone on any visit he’d made to the holiday planet to stack pumpkin bombs atop his body, giggling among themselves and taking bets over who would be first to topple the tower and blow their mask off or melt it to their face. No friendlier spirit had visited until Jack had come to shoo Lock, Shock, and Barrel away and pick Roxas gently up in his arms like he weighed no more than a child himself. “This kind of hurt is the scariest thing of all. One fear I’ll never touch or use for Halloween,” Jack had half fretted, half assured Roxas as he took him back to his house for a piping hot cup of witch brew. The Haunted Mansion had been next, but Madam Leota hadn’t been able to see a thing.

Axel couldn’t just be gone. Roxas couldn’t let him be.

Roxas had begged Even to use one of the replicas. Even if nobody else would agree to provide memories (“It’s not healthy Roxas.” “It won’t really be him, Roxas.” How healthy was withering away because he couldn’t force himself to eat? How could anyone say Axel wouldn’t be as real as Roxas was himself?), Axel had always told him that he held his entire heart. They had to try. Roxas needed Even to try. Quickly. Before he died too.

Even had sat Roxas down and told him that it wouldn’t do to let himself be haunted by ghosts.

He didn’t understand that was the only thing Roxas wanted…or that it was already too late.


	9. Class Clown (Professor Lauriam, Roxas, mentions of Akuroku Post Canon)

The words _War Dust and Wine Stains_ , capitalized like a title, wrote themselves on the blackboard. The first time their professor had opened his bag and chalk had levitated out and set to writing, it had danced across the front of the room to the tune of impressed gasps and “ooh"s around the classroom from students packed in so tightly additional desks had been moved in from the room next door (Advanced Chemistry with Applications in Item Synthesis. They didn’t start until the following period, and wouldn’t miss a few seats even if they didn’t. Roxas and Hayner had a bet running that Olette had made up the names of a few classmates because she didn’t want to admit it was only her and the moogle in the lectures, despite Pence vouching that at the one Monday lecture he’d attended before being asked to leave after the first Wednesday’s lab had been fairly well attended) and were scooted together until they near overlapped. Now, weeks in, there were only a few yawns from those regretting signing up for a morning class.

Twilight Town had joined the council of worlds that knew about the truth of the larger universe and inhabitants of the stars over the past few years. Many worlds were able to write off the Heartless and Nobodies as mutated creatures from their own woods, sewers, and other shadowy places, and if anyone knew to the contrary they were the sole contact for the Guardians of Light and carried the secret of the keybearers close to their chest. Some worlds, however, were more difficult to navigate. Twilight Town had been home to too many humanoid Nobodies and far too many replicas. The town had seen open battles, vanishing residents that came back with new powers, and too much more that couldn’t be explained away. Magic only went so far to filter populous perception and provide palatable explanations, and by the time an anthropomorphic duck had become one of the primary new job providers in a world that had seen no other sentient animal residents, it was time to start lifting the veil and letting the puppeteers behind the curtains provide explanations before too many peaked backstage unprepared and drew dangerously faulty conclusions.

Sciences from and history of other worlds starting to be taught in schools, at least at the university level, were part of agreements that had been made between the higher powers of Twilight Town and the council of King Mickey, Yensid, and Merlin, but, until there was approval to teach actual magic to Twilight Town residents or allow exchange programs (or at least more exports from other worlds), even the most exciting on the surface new study areas lost luster eventually when the class started at eight in the morning, and the professor was typically more focused on facts that needed to be memorized than constructing the rich, interesting stories of alien planets and epic battles long past that were craved. Roxas had a feeling that was going to change shortly however.

Roxas catcalled, already knowing what was to come, though he would have done so for those words even if he didn’t. Hayner joined him without hesitation, Pence after a sigh to show his participation was solely for loyalty’s sake and a favor would need to be repaid later, and Olette not at all, being the restraint of the friend group. It was alright for Roxas to act a fool. He was just taking other world history for an easy credit. Some people needed to behave as serious students to make sure they stayed on Dr. Lauriam’s good side, and actually pay attention.

Lauriam glared and Roxas blew kisses, but the chalk was unperturbed, continuing on to write the claim _by Lea Emberson and Isa Chandra_ under what was now surely a title.

"There’s a new addition to your semester reading list,” Lauriam explained, forestalling questions or complaints with a wave of a hand that indicated to settle down. “Copies for every student in the class have been generously donated by one of the authors.”

“My boyfriend!” Roxas crowed a proud interruption as Olette tried to catch Hayner’s eye to implore him to settle Roxas down.

Lauriam ignored the color commentary. “You’ll be able to pick up your copies starting next class. In addition, both authors will be joining us the last Monday before finals for a special class where they will answer any questions you all may have and share a few stories that aren’t in their account of the second keyblade war. This will serve as our overview of contemporary other world history.”

“Then there will be a mixer at my apartment that night with the authors in attendance. Time and exact details to follow,” Roxas stood up, the interruption approved this time, though the same couldn’t be said for how he continued the invitation, “Marly will give extra credit if you show up to get turnt with us.”

A ripple of emotion passed over the pink haired history professor’s face before it settled back into its typical mask. “It will be quite the event I’m sure.” His voice was so dry it was a wonder he didn’t leave half the class rasping for breath. He didn’t argue the fact that nobody should be getting “turnt” though, considering it a lost cause when Lea himself would undoubtedly be setting the worst example of conduct. “But we have several weeks of material to cover before then.”

“Killjoy”


	10. Tone Deaf (Axel/Roxas Modern AU, Roadtrips)

Axel sung tunelessly, pitching his body back and forth in its seat so wildly that it was a wonder that his seat belt hadn’t locked yet. Roxas was quite sure that the only reason it hadn’t done so was that the car, much like the wailing redhead, was actively trying to spite him at this point. Axel’s performance, making up for lack of ability to stay on pitch with enthusiasm, was completely acapella, an upbeat Bollywood number, surely beautiful in the right hands but utterly incomprehensible even if you did speak Hindi–which Roxas didn’t–as Axel butchered it, that necessitated much waving of hands and notes that really tested the range Axel did not have. 

Roxas and Axel had fought earlier. It might have been fine if they had the ability to put distance between them to cool off, but trapped in a tin can for miles of empty highway together with neither being inclined to apologize right away and only Axel being inclined to change topics (understandable as it had been a phone call from Isa, or, more aptly, the way Axel’s voice had vacillated between the teasing tone that could be said to be flirting but which could be reasonably defended as the same voice he used with everyone and the lower purr that Roxas grumbled over claiming should only be used with him, that started the whole thing before the true lines had been crossed. “I don’t understand why you’re still friends with that asshole” met with a defense of “He means as much to me as you do” that was said before it was thought through and wasn’t supposed to be taken the way Roxas insisted on taking it even after Axel backtracked and explained) the silent treatment had been liberally applied for the past two states, and Axel was starting to resort to desperate measures to get Roxas to reopen lines of communication.

Roxas, the mature, dignified one in the relationship, pantomimed shooting himself in the head before flipping Axel off with both hands, using his knees to steer for a second.

So that tactic failed. Luckily, fate was on Axel’s side though. When they went to check in to the hotel that night, there was only one room left, A king.

“And there was only one bed,” Axel crooned.

Cross country road trip saved.


	11. The Proposal Part One (Axel/Roxas Post Canon)

When Roxas had invited him over for dinner, Axel had expected take out and hoped for carry out from Le Grand Bistro. When he’d discovered that Roxas had cooked dinner himself, it wasn’t mac and cheese, and there weren’t any tiny footprints on the kitchen counter or rat hairs caught in Roxas’s own dusty gold locks, Axel wondered if it was a special occasion he’d forgotten. When candles were lit and there were courses, starting with thin jalapeno pancakes layered with a three cheese blended mix of ricotta, cream cheese, and cheddar with sprinkled bits of bacon and a dusting of cinnamon on top, purportedly just because “I remembered you mentioned something about jalapeno pancakes before,” Axel began to wonder if Roxas had volunteered him as an assistant or guinea pig for Even and Ienzo’s latest project and was buttering him up, though by the time Roxas was feeding him spoonfuls of homemade ice cream as they lay on the floor (Axel having thrown himself to the ground after the short ribs and declaring himself overstuffed and ready to be thrown in the oven himself since Roxas was clearly fattening him up, and Roxas having slithered down beside him, dessert cup full of blue sea salt just a touch too dark with food coloring to match the bars they usually bought in hand, declaring there was always room for dessert. Axel agreeing to try Roxas’s final concoction if he was assured he’d find himself a WINNER, Roxas countering that he should know he already was since he had the best boyfriend ever, and Axel not being able to disagree) he’d fallen into a hopefully not false sense of security. 

A bite was taken and the rest left to melt as they talked deep thoughts about worldlines and fate and whether a Frost Serpent would beat a Darkside in battle, Roxas pulled snugly into Axel’s arms and half lying across his chest.

“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” Roxas asked after a particularly long silence.

“Another one?” Axel kissed the top of his head. “I don’t know how you’ll top: would you rather be haunted by young Xehanort or be stuck looking like old Xehanort?”

Roxas drew spirals on Axel’s shoulder for a moment, lost for a few beats, thinking through the perfect question, or so it seemed, though when he looked up from his invisible artistic endeavors so his eyes met Axel’s own, the redhead keyblade wielder saw an emotional journey that could make a head spin played out in the flash of a second–trepidation to determination to mischief–that said Roxas had planned the game around the next question and just had to work up to it. “What would you say if a five foot, two inch blue eyed man with sandy blond hair were to ask you to marry him?”

Axel inhaled sharply, instinctively, and then time stopped for a moment. Whatever he’d expected, this wasn’t it.

It was the moment before stepping out on a tightrope with no net beneath, held breath and hammering heart that you could question as a lack of faith until you became self-aware and saw it was all anticipation. You were ready. This is what you had prepared for. waited for, and you walked forward with trust. Though, in Axel’s case, the greatest fate he could think of was to fall. _Yes. Yes, forever and always._ He pried his tongue from the roof of his mouth where it had stuck when his mouth had run dry at Roxas’s question and wet his lips slowly so they’d unstick too. He couldn’t help but notice how closely blue eyes tracked the small motion and smirk, despite Roxas’s rapt attention undoubtedly being related to the passing of torturous seconds with no answer. “I might say yes, if it were the right short blond, but I’d need to be asked first,” Axel’s words slipped out as a sigh of a whisper to have Roxas tilting his head closer to catch them.

Roxas raised a hand to brush fingers through the shorter hairs at the nape of Axel’s neck, expression unspeakably fond as it usually was before he called Axel a jackass, but Roxas didn’t ruin the mood with that word. He scooted up, rested his forehead against Axel’s and chuckled. Their breath mingled. He dragged out the moment and Axel knew it was only revenge. “Good to know,” Roxas proved Axel had misjudged who was the bigger troll in the relationship before he connected their lips.

Axel’s processing was a second behind, dizzied with love and continued anticipation. He pulled Roxas flush to him with the hand on his lower back and mentally celebrated the engagement as Roxas licked into his mouth and hummed a dismayed tone at the residual taste of green chilis, though it didn’t seem to deter either of them in any significant way. Even when Axel registered in the back of his mind as his legs tangled with Roxas’s and Roxas’s hands slipped under his shirt that Roxas had only returned his coyness with the same and hadn’t actually asked the question, he was sure it was coming.

When Roxas pushed against his chest, flat palmed and pulled back, Axel expected the words, though instead he heard a breathless, “I should do the dishes before everything gets dried and stuck on and they need to soak first.”

“I’ll help.”

Dishes were cleaned. More small talk about Hayner’s new dog, Sora’s recent visit, and the latest news out of Radiant Garden as had been related to Axel by an excitable Demyx–and how it compared to Isa’s latest letter–was made. No proposal.

Roxas lamented that he needed to get to bed early. He and Xion were supposed to head out to Bambi’s forest in the morning. No proposal.

“So…I should leave?” Axel squashed in the question, at first just leaving the pause as bait before becoming self conscious when it wasn’t taken.

“Well, I wouldn’t get any rest if you stayed.” The soft crinkle of Roxas’s eyes took pity on the taller man even if the rest of the dual wielder did not. “Goodnight, Axel.”

“Good night?”

So it wasn’t the moment after all.

Not today.


	12. The Proposal Part Two (Axel/Roxas Post Canon)

Two weeks and quite possibly hundreds of topic changes later, the matter came up again when they were helping Peter Pan go fishing for newly reformed codfish.

Neverland had long been a special place for them–a special place in general when you could fly using only the power of happy memories and watch mermaids play in the lagoon–but there was hardly time for nostalgia facing down wave after wave of pirate Heartless on the deck of the Jolly Roger while avoid strafing fire of Shadow piloted air ships above, and fighting for his life hardly put Axel in the mood…anymore. Peter and Captain Hook were locked in what was either mortal combat or a highly choreographed game, dancing along thin branches from the mast near the crow’s nest while Axel and Roxas kept the Heartless occupied.

A red bandanna wearing cousin of a Soldier charged at Roxas, curved blade upheld and a feral screech emanating from the jagged split that bisected its face that passed for its mouth. It lashed out wildly, swings powerful even if they lacked finesse and superhumanly fast until foreswing blended with backswing. Roxas managed to block each blow in the series with his keyblades, turning the creature’s momentum back on it until it reeled back toward the edge of the deck and perfectly in the line of cannon fire from one of its airborne comrades. Axel had his own murderous little problems to deal with but he couldn’t help but watch Roxas, to make sure that he was, in fact, holding his own, sure (He knew Roxas was more than capable, but everyone had off nights) but mostly to admire.

They locked eyes by chance and Axel smiled and shot Roxas a wink, unfortunately giving one of the two Pirates he was fighting himself an opening. The tip of a sword shredded through both Axel’s overshirt and undershirt, centimeter away from doing real damage as Axel spun away, reaction time luckily good enough to avert complete disaster. There was a sound that could have been just an affectionate, exasperated gust of wind but sounded a lot like “Idiot.”

“You love me anyway,” Axel shot back, setting both Pirates ablaze with a snap of a finger, though it made them more mad than anything.

“Yeah…” Roxas seemed thoughtful, or as thoughtful as one could be while shoving the sharp end of a weapon through the x marks the spot not-quite eye socket of a soul eating monster. “So, will you?”

“Will I what?” Axel asked, a bit preoccupied when a flaming Heartless jumped on his back.

Roxas aimed both a water spell and a supremely disappointed arch look at his boyfriend. “Figure it out and give me an answer.”


	13. Don't You Worry (Isa/Roxas/Axel Post Canon)

Another house party for the record books had been pulled off, securing Roxas, Xion, and Axel’s good names as the fun ones out of the Guardians of Light. The mood was mellowing, naturally and not too early, the clock declaring it was well into tomorrow, and people trickling out the door with designated drivers or waiting cabs, retiring to offered rooms to crash (there weren’t many but Xion had offered hers, Axel and Roxas had long ago condensed into one room, leaving the third bedroom of the apartment always open to guests, and Pence had called passing out in the bathtub out of tradition), or on the way to falling asleep where they were.

Roxas was sitting on the kitchen counter, Axel bracketed between his legs, though his boyfriend’s body and attention were angled away, talking to Isa, whose fingers brushed the outside of Roxas’s thigh every time he reached for a drink from the bottle of beer he kept sitting on the counter next to the younger man–and always just as close– instead of keeping it in his hand, making Roxas fairly certain he was doing it on purpose, flattering himself that he was being subtly propositioned or at least flirted with. Hayner stood to Roxas’s other side, asking him about Axel and Isa’s latest trip to gather research for their next book since the men in question were too wrapped up in talking to each other to indulge outsider questions, but his smiles and nods didn’t quite match the pattern of any point Roxas was making and the struggle player was licking his lips just a bit too often to pass it off as them just being chapped. All together, it seemed to Roxas to be the mood of a start of a very good night rather than the end of one, though he tried not to let his mind float too far down the path to the gutter.

Axel caught Roxas’s eye briefly, a fleeting askance glance before returning to stare into Isa’s eyes, shifted closer, leaning into the counter, and nodded almost imperceptibly. Isa seemed to notice some random fuzz on Axel’s collar and wiped it away carefully, quipping for him to make a wish. Roxas lost the battle with his thoughts, taking cues that everyone was on the same page.

He’d blame the alcohol. He hadn’t had that much to drink, but small frame meant low tolerance meant surely he could just claim Axel was right when he’d called him a horny drunk and his judgment was clouded when he decided to pursue whatever it was that he dreamed was about to happen.

Hayner miscalculated and got himself uninvited in the same swoop as he provided the impetus to turn wandering thought into reality. “Don’t you worry about Isa hanging around all the time?” Hayner’s eyes registered regret in real time before the last words of the personal, inappropriate to ask right in front of Isa and Axel question had even left his mouth, but loose lips didn’t appear to be able to halt themselves. “The tension and old feelings, ya know, becoming too much?”

Axel’s shoulders went rigid and his grip on his own beer bottle tightened. Roxas found himself struggling to form a polite response or even process the words. Isa, however, came to the rescue with an unimpressed eyebrow raise giving way to a smile, chilling in its calculating friendliness when aimed at Hayner then more predatory turned to Roxas, and the silky smooth delivery of, “We’ve gotten over our old feelings, haven’t we Roxas? You like me now?” accompanied with a large, warm hand resting solidly north of the blonde’s knee and squeezing.

Roxas swallowed slowly, taking a moment so he wouldn’t just nod stupidly, too eager. In the silence he heard Axel inhale sharply and checked his eyes for jealousy and permission and finding a little bit of both. Roxas reached up and hooked two fingers in the chain of the crescent moon pendant Isa wore around his neck. “Sure, but I am upset at all the tension.” He crooked his fingers, closing them into a fist and yanking Isa’s head down to his level. The crash of their lips was as harsh as anyone would have expected if they expected the curveball at all. Hayner recoiled as if he was being attacked but the other blond was the last thing on Roxas’s mind just then as Isa biting his lower lip was effectively distracting. They kissed like a competition, and like most competitions Roxas found himself involved in, it threatened to escalate quickly. His head was hitting the cabinets behind him and Axel had moved enough for Isa to slip in between them and was biting Isa’s ear and whispering something Roxas couldn’t make out–either encouragement or a whining reminder not to leave him out long, Roxas would wagered–while Isa licked into Roxas’s mouth and Roxas’s legs were wrapped around them both to ensure no escape, ankles locked behind Axel. 

Hayner scoffed, “Okay, I get it. Very funny,” like they were playing a joke or putting on a show for his benefit to pay him back for his intrusive question–which they could have been, and the moment even Roxas himself hadn’t expected to ever happen or thought he would want before that night but now reflected as a long time coming could have shattered just from that, if something different hadn’t interrupted even more surely.

"Stop making the guests uncomfortable with your PDA,” Xion scolded, opening the fridge, completely unphased but infinitely exasperated. “I just had to pour the last of my bottle of water over Sora and Riku to get them to separate and go home to fuck on their own couch.” She rooted around the fridge while she spoke. “I come in here to get a replacement and you guys are playing grabass.” Roxas would have countered that nobody was getting their ass grabbed yet and she and Hayner should both leave so they could, but then he realized where Axel’s hands were and conceded the point to Xion. “Which is fine, I guess, but don’t do anything else on my kitchen counter.” Xion emerged from the fridge with a fresh bottle of water and twisted off the cap. “And apologize to Hayner for shocking him. He’s sensitive.” She shook her head. “I really expected a little more restraint from you at least, Isa.” She motioned to Hayner to follow her. “Come on, let’s go clear out the rest of the stragglers and leave them to it.”

Xion blew out of the kitchen as quickly as she had blown in and Hayner followed. It could have ranked among the most embarrassing moments of Roxas’s life, if Isa hadn’t sighed and said, with a contemplative head tilt. “I should wait to be asked since I’m the guest here in more ways than one, but…” He trailed off for a moment and a commentary about how he’d always be one to take charge even though their Organization days were long behind them could be read, “Bedroom?”


	14. Lost Masters (Xehaqus, KH1 Era, Canon Divergence)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I actually have the larger story/au this belongs to living rent free in my head and semi-planned out, as some of you may know, but I decided to post this here anyway, both because the larger Lost Masters story is not guaranteed to exist, and, by the time we get to the timeline of the first Kingdom Hearts game, this scene may not happen this way. With that in mind, why not let the people enjoy badass grandpas in love Xehanort and Eraqus?

Xehanort grabbed Eraqus’s sleeve, bunching the thin, damp, brightly patterned material of his gold, green, and pink fish haori in his grip. “We have to be mindful of the World Order,” he warned his husband. There was little chance he wouldn’t remember. Some lessons were reinforced so deeply they never left, but decades had softened both of their instincts. Standing under a flickering streetlamp on a corner between foreign neon lit shops, breathing in air that was heavy and damp but without the salt of the seashore, felt like a bad dream. What he wouldn’t give to hear the cry of a gull.

Eraqus reached up a hand to pat the one on his shoulder reassuringly, and then tugged into better arrangement the bucket fishing hat he’d badgered Xehanort into starting to wear as soon as his hairline had started to retreat the smallest bit. “Don’t worry, love. It’s going to be alright.”

Only Eraqus could smile with optimism after watching his adopted home planet fall to darkness. Well, only him and one other.

“Hurry up!” Sora’s impatient voice drifted from….Honestly Xehanort couldn’t see him, and that made the words more urgent. He’d need to have a talk with the boy about bounding ahead.

Eraqus bounced his eyebrows and tightened the leather tie holding his salt and pepper hair back. “You heard him. Let’s catch up, slowpoke. Last one to the Third District is a rotten egg.”

“Don’t throw out your hip, old man,” Xehanort threw back the words still somewhat weary but trying to join his husband in keeping the mood light. They’d find a way to save Destiny Islands yet. They’d seen worlds respawn and come back from Darkness before. The universe was giving them one last adventure to shake them up before they gave into old age.

If they could find Riku, he’d feel much better though.

Even being given warning that Eraqus was about to take off running like their teenage ward, he wasn’t quite ready for it, and found himself left in the dust. He made up the distance, but, when he turned the corner, he found Era skidded to a stop, introducing himself to a redheaded girl about Sora and Riku’s age in a long lavender dress.

“I’m Tardy McFleetfoot, and this handsome gentleman is my husband, Grumplepuss McFleetfoot. We looking for our grandson, Riku.” He hadn’t changed a whit in half a century. Xehanort thanked his lucky stars.

The girl shot him a skeptical look. Tough audience, she didn’t even crack a smile at the cover names. She tilted her head toward Sora, causing one of the flowers woven in her braid to knock loose and fall to the ground. “Found him.”

Eraqus played offended. “That’s our grandson’s friend, Smiley St. Coconuthead. We’re not that farsighted."

Sora snickered, and the frosty girl turned and started to walk off, but waved to be followed. "You can check the fourth district. That’s where a lot of the refugees end up.” She didn’t ask if they were new to town or about their world.

Eraqus caught Xehanort’s eye and mouthed the words, “You” and “Scala.”

Xehanort frowned and shook his head. He knew what his husband was getting at, but he hadn’t given out that aura of superiority and jadedness, had he? Out loud, he answered, “Yes,” for them all.

“My name is Kairi. Kairi the Just, Princess of Hollow Bastion. It’s a meaningless title. My home no longer…Heartless!”

Twitching, bright-eyed, clawed creatures the size of large dogs on their hind legs with insect heads rose out of the ground on all sides. The princess pressed her hands over her heart and closed her eyes, a cocoon of pure light forming around her and shooting out projectile pearls of holy magic moments after, though, by that time, the numbers were diminished.

The quickest reaction in the group, beating out both their aloof tour guide and Xehanort’s priority of shoving Sora behind him, was Eraqus, keyblade an extension of his arm like it had never left, carving through the enemy as he dove in front of them all. Taking the lead to cover, just as running ahead and even the upbeat attitude that cut down despair before it could grow were designed to do.

“Sorry. I’m protective over the things I love.”


	15. No Sleep, No Dreaming (Axel/Roxas)

Most people looked younger when they slept, or at least more vulnerable, stress slackened from the body, breath in little cute huffs. Roxas screwed up his face until he became a disgruntled pug, almost as if he were locked in a battle with sleep and trying to force it to relinquish the most rest possible in the least time, and sounded like the same dog in the middle of defending his territory once he got to snoring. That was when he actually managed to fall asleep though, which wasn’t always guaranteed. 

“You’re being creepy again,” the dual wielder groaned without opening his eyes to confirm his suspicion that Axel was staring at him. Axel was always staring at him, as the dark bags he’d developed attested. Roxas had pointed them out, counting on Axel’s vanity to help him out, but the former assassin had merely shrugged and said that he missed his tattoos and was taking a shortcut to get purple under his eyes. 

“Shh, no I’m not. This is a dream.” Fingers stroked at the skin of Roxas’s side and he could hear the fond smile in Axel’s voice.

“Huh, usually my dreams are more active.” Roxas snuggled closer to the warmth on the other side of the bed.

“Tell me.”

“That doesn’t seem like it will help us go back to sleep, but I guess if neither of us was asleep to begin with…”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Well, I do have one reoccurring fantasy…”

“Yes?”

“We’re in this flower field outside Corona, a secluded meadow, just the two of us. I tell you to lay down and close your eyes. Hands above your head. I backtrack though. As soon as I say that, I tell you to sit up so I can slide that black vest of yours off you, slowly. I’m going to use it as a blindfold for you. I wasn’t thinking ahead so I didn’t bring anything else.”

“I hope you were thinking ahead with other supplies.”

“Always. You’re the one that forgets.”

“Skinny pants. Can’t have anything in the pockets.”

“Do you want to hear the rest or not?”

“Oh, desperately.”

“Okay, so your overshirt gets used to tie your wrists together and your undershirt just gets tossed aside. I have you lie back down in the grass….And then I leave you there and go find a fucking Sleep Archer to come cast magic on you, because you are an idiot who thinks if he closes his eyes for ten seconds I’ll disappear!”

“No fair.”

“So fair!”

“You don’t get it.”

“But I do. I hate you leaving my side even to go the bathroom, but I don’t follow you, because I’m not a freak, my dear, beloved weirdo.”

“I just…The only thing I have left to be afraid of is being happy, because it always gets taken away, and you make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Gross.”

“Wow, I love you too.”

Roxas held Axel’s face gently between his hands. His cheeks were warm to the touch. True, it wasn’t as concerning as it would have been if he didn’t always run a bit hot, but the hiss of indrawn breath sounding reminiscent of a sizzle of bacon in a hot pan that came when Roxas leaned in and rested his forehead against Axel’s wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“You’re freezing, Angel.” The man in question had the nerve to beat his boyfriend to reproaches.

“No, you’re just hot.”

“Thank you.”

“Listen, Hot Stuff, I do love you, so, so much, which is why I am so concerned about you not sleeping. I know it’s hard. It breaks my heart it’s so difficult. We have to hope it gets better in time. I can promise you that I’ll be here in the morning. I know it only helps so much. I know that you can know something in your head and heart, but still have them turn around and fool you. But I can also promise you that if you don’t start sleeping full nights that I am going to shove sleeping pills in the middle of your sea salt ice cream bars, and…I know, if I did disappear, that you would bring me back. I trust you, and you trust me, so you have to trust you too. We’re in love. That’s the strongest power in the universe. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“So goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”


	16. Smash my Pelvis (Axel/Roxas, Post-Canon)

I just saw a beautiful picture of a bed that had roses on it spelling out “smash my pelvis”. Definitely something Roxas would do to get straight to the point

Roxas had told Axel he would clean up the apartment while he was away. He'd followed through, even cleaned Axel's room for him and made the bed...spelling out "please smash my pelvis" in rose petals atop the fresh sheets. He was getting a little tired of waiting for Axel to make the first move.

Axel rolls his eyes and tells Roxas to clean it up while he’s in the shower, throws down his bag, and keeps on mumbling about the shower and how badly he needs one after Corona and those damn dandelion Heartless getting their pollen everywhere as he walks out of the room, which isn’t the reaction Roxas expected to his welcome home tableau.

It’s certainly not the one he hoped for either, but he’d been prepared for rejection in the form of unintentional cruel laughter as Axel took the invitation less seriously than Roxas had meant it. He’d still expected appreciation for the effort, even if it was taken as a joke. In playing through and planning for every way the scenario could go in his mind, he’d almost convinced himself that would be the best way, that Axel would laugh and Roxas could laugh with him, that nothing would change right away but an idea would be planted and Axel, knowing how these things worked better, knowing the steps that were supposed to come between “I’m not sure if best friend is the only word I want to describe you with” and “smash my pelvis” if there had to be steps, would guide them through it, so it wasn’t just because Axel hadn’t immediately started trying to tear off his clothes that Roxas felt like an Assault Rider had just stampeded over him and shoved its guan dao in his chest. It was the dismissal and the borderline disdain that hurt.

He _should_ say something instead of letting it fester. He wouldn’t. He’d retreat to his own bedroom and not come out until Axel left the apartment again. But he knew he shouldsay something to clear the air. That was progress, recognizing lack of communication as a problem.

“If you need to spell it out and you can’t say it, then how am I supposed to take you seriously?” Axel’s voice drifts in from down the hall, annoyed, making Roxas startle at the possibility Axel is reading his thoughts instead of turning around in circles of his own thoughts.

“I want you to smash my pelvis?” Roxas yells to him, mouth determined not to miss the opportunity his brain may delay on following through on, though his voice goes up to an unsure note at the end like it questions whether he would go through with it.

“And won’t that be interesting to explain to everyone?” Axel half laughs, appearing back in the doorway, all bright eyes and wolfish grin that say the earlier scorn was its own joke.

“Eh, what are cure spells for?” Roxas reasons, his own half-giddy anticipatory grin settling on his face.

“True. I’m all for magic in the bedroom.”

Turns out they both are, their own brand, and traditional spells. You wouldn’t believe what a properly aimed slow or a haste spell at the right time could add to an evening.


	17. Slipping Through My Fingers (Xehaqus, Canon)

Eraqus loves it when Xehanort runs his fingers through his hair cause it helps him fall asleep.

When Xehanort first came to Scala, the first time it started to storm heavily like it did the day Xehanort washed up, Eraqus, bare feet and loose hair falling in his eyes, snuck into his room all concerned about if he was having trouble sleeping so far from home. Xehanort accused him of projecting and of being afraid of the storm. He expected Eraqus to deny it, but Eraqus admitted that maybe that is it, and, before Xehanort knew it, Eraqus had crawled into bed with him. It’s…odd, but not a bad odd. He ran his fingers through Eraqus’s hair, making some joke about how he’s like a cat as Era snuggled in, which Eraqus only meowed at. 

Eraqus may not keep his nervousness during storms–he may have been faking the first time–but Xehanort running his fingers through Eraqus’s hair becomes a go-to calming gesture for them both. Angry about some undeserved low mark or rebuke from Master Odin? Sent out on mission far away from home? ~~Mourning dead friends?~~ You see them cuddled together, and Xehanort cording his fingers through Eraqus’s loose hair after releasing it from its ties. 

At a point, years pass in between each time they come together, and the joke gets made that its a good thing the tradition didn’t go the other way because Xehanort loses his hair. Eraqus still has the same tempting, thick mane though, begging to be touched, and Xehanort always finds an excuse to give in. 

They both believe they have important destinies, and loudly say they have no regrets all other times, but in the quiet when it’s just the two of them, Eraqus will admit part of him is sorry he didn’t follow Xehanort when he left. Xehanort never says he's sorry he didn’t stay, but they both know.


End file.
